The Axe of Sundering

  Happily for Alex, there was no news of goblins in or around the city they arrived at the next day. The days turned into weeks, and after three weeks and five more cities, Alex had almost forgotten the goblin tracks he had found. The caravan was almost as far north as they would go, approaching the sea. When they came to the sea they would turn due west, and move across the northern part of Midland before starting south once more. Alex knew he and Whalen would be leaving the caravan soon and starting off for Westland. He was sad to leave the caravan. He had enjoyed it more than he’d thought he would. He had made a great many friends in the company, and it would be hard to say good-bye to them all.

  Whalen, Alex noticed, was still quiet and unhappy, though he still said that nothing was wrong. Alex knew something was very wrong, and that Whalen was keeping it from him so he wouldn’t worry. Alex also noticed that Whalen, apart from just looking worn and tired, now and then seemed a little confused. Whalen had always been alert and full of energy, and the change troubled Alex more and more. He kept a close watch on his friend, hoping that Whalen was just worried about what lay ahead.

  The caravan approached the village of Welding. It was a small village, but it was important to all the caravans that traveled this way. Welding was on the coast and also where the main road split. One road went north, and caravans crossing Midland to the north would follow it. Alex and Whalen’s caravan would take the other road, called the lower crossing. The lower crossing was considered safer to travel, as it never entered the wilder, bandit-filled lands of the far north.

  Welding was different from most other villages for another reason. Every caravan along this route would stop for the night there, even though it was a small village and not really a place for trade. But oftentimes goods were shipped to the harbor at Welding and would be waiting for the caravan to arrive. Occasionally goods from the caravan would be sent by ship south from Welding as well. Lupo told Alex all about Welding, and that there were three other villages just like it, forming a kind of square around what might be called the corners of Midland.

  It wasn’t yet noon when Alex and the other scouts arrived at the edge of a small wood. Here the road turned toward the sea, dropping down into a shallow valley where the village stood. Alex was in front, leading the group. A quick look at the village in the valley told Alex that something was wrong. He held up his hand so the others would stop before they all rode out of the trees. He didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but he thought it best not to have them out in the open where they would be seen.

  “What’s the matter?” Lupo asked, riding up beside Alex.

  “The village,” Alex said. “It’s not right.”

  “It looks the same as it did last time we were here,” Lupo said without concern.

  “I don’t see any people,” Alex said. “And there’s no smoke from cooking fires.”

  Lupo looked down at the village without saying anything. His face had become stern, and his eyes searched the valley and village for any sign of life. After a more than a minute of looking and not seeing anything at all, Lupo turned to the rest of the scouts.

  “Be ready for anything,” Lupo said. “Spread out on the road and leave some space between each other. If this is a trap, let’s not make it easy for anyone to catch us all.”

  The others understood what Lupo was saying, and with a nod Lupo and Alex started forward. Alex heard the men behind him checking their weapons, but he wasn’t sure weapons would be needed. If this was a trap, the important thing was that at least one of them got away to warn the caravan. He kept his eyes moving, searching for anything that was out of place. His mind started plotting, and he couldn’t help thinking that if this was a trap the wooded area they had just ridden through would be the best place for attackers to hide.

  There was no movement in the village as they approached, and the only sound was a slight breeze blowing in from the sea. It wasn’t until he and Lupo had ridden to the edge of the village that they saw the first sign of trouble. A body was lying in a ditch at the side of the road, and from the look of him Alex guessed the man had been dead for three or four days.

  Lupo motioned with his hand, and the other scouts closed in around him. They all saw the body, but they didn’t speak. Alex let his magic reach out, looking for any signs of life in the village, hoping that things weren’t as bad as he feared. There was nothing for his magic to find, or at least nothing living. The village was empty.

  “Gareth, ride back and tell my father what we’ve found,” Lupo ordered. “Jon, Eric—Parlasea is the nearest city along the north road, half a day’s hard ride at least. Make the best time you can, and let them know as well. Be careful.”

  “And the rest of us?” a man named Walsh asked.

  “We’ll search the village for any survivors,” Lupo answered, desperate hope in his voice. “Use caution. If there are survivors they might fear us or even attack us.”

  “And if there are no survivors?” Walsh asked in a troubled voice.

  “Then we’ll start digging graves,” Lupo answered.

  Gareth rode off at top speed, wanting to bring Lycan and the caravan forward as quickly as possible. Jon and Eric moved at a solid gallop, but Alex knew that however fast they reached the city, it would be at least a day before any help came from there. Alex and the rest of the group moved into the village quietly, nervous and afraid of what they might find.

  Alex, Lupo, and the three remaining members of their group stayed close together. With a great deal of caution, they searched every building from top to bottom. They found a dozen more bodies, and Alex made a note that all were men, and they all looked to be between the ages of eighteen and maybe forty years old. There were no women, no children, and no old people.

  A small hope blossomed in Alex’s mind. Perhaps the women and children had somehow escaped. The hope didn’t last long as he helped to carry thirteen dead men to the small cemetery just north of the village and realized that if there were no dead women or children it had to be because whoever had done this wanted the women and children alive. Alex’s mind started looking for answers, and he didn’t like any of the answers his brain came up with. He tried and failed to push the dark thoughts away and started digging.

  The work of digging graves didn’t force his dark thoughts away, but it did help him to focus his mind. It was possible, he reasoned, that most of the villagers could have escaped. They might have seen this trouble coming and fled, leaving behind only a few men to try to defend their village.

  “If that is the case, where are they now?” Alex’s O’Gash asked. “Once the trouble was over, they would have returned to their village. They would have at least buried their own dead.”

  Alex didn’t have any answers. He turned the problem over in his mind, trying to find some way that the villagers might have escaped. Escaped and not returned to bury their dead. Something evil had happened here, and Alex was already thinking that Jabez was involved. But why Jabez would do something like this, Alex had no idea at all.

  “What do you think happened here?” Alex finally asked Lupo as they took a break from digging.

  “Pirates,” Lupo answered without hesitation. “They often raid small villages and towns near the coast. They can get supplies, and sometimes they get a few men who are willing to join them.”

  “You say this happens often?” Alex asked.

  “Well, not that often,” Lupo said. “Raiding towns and villages can cause trouble, once word gets out. Ships are warned, as are all the other towns and villages along the coast, and at least those nearby will be on guard. This, however, is strange.”

  “Strange how?” Alex asked, already suspecting the answer.

  “So many dead. Pirates don’t often kill, at least not when they raid a village or town. They may kill one or two people if they have to, but we’ve found thirteen bodies. That seems like a lot for a small village like Welding.”

  “And we’ve found no survivors.”

  “Yes, that as well. Pira
tes will sometimes resort to kidnapping. They will hold a person—or perhaps a family—for ransom if they think they can get a good price for them.”

  “But an entire village?”

  “No, I’ve never heard of that. If they took the entire village, who would be left to pay the ransom? It doesn’t make any kind of sense.”

  They didn’t say any more as they went back to digging. Alex could see that Lupo was as troubled as he was about what they had found—and what they had not found. Alex thought Lupo was right about the ransom idea. If pirates had taken everyone in the village, hoping to get paid for their return, who would pay? If the caravan hadn’t been traveling this way, who would even know that the village was missing?

  “Someone would find out, sooner or later,” Alex’s O’Gash said.

  Later might be what the attackers hoped for , Alex answered.

  Alex paused in his digging to look at the village. The village was mostly made up of houses, and only had two or three public buildings. There were several large warehouses near the harbor, but they were separated from the village by a hundred feet of open ground. Alex guessed that at least a hundred to a hundred and fifty people had lived here. With only thirteen dead, that would leave a minimum of eighty-seven, far too many to take them all away on a single ship.

  Alex’s thoughts were interrupted by trumpets suddenly sounding from the hill to the north of the village. A large number of armed men on horseback came sweeping into the valley. Alex and the others stopped their work, gathering together once more. Lupo moved forward, holding up his open right hand as a sign of peace.

  Most of the riders moved through the village and down to the warehouses and harbor area. A dozen men quickly encircled Lupo and the others. They looked to be soldiers, and their movements were well ordered. They didn’t say anything for a minute or more, just looking at Alex and his companions. Finally, the man who appeared to be in command lifted his own right hand as Lupo had done.

  “I see our comrades didn’t have far to go before they found you,” Lupo said.

  “Not far,” the commander answered. “I am Teamor. Who are you, and why have you come here?”

  “I am Lupo. We are scouts for the caravan of my father, Lycan of Tresland. We are traveling north, though we mean to take the lower crossing to the west.”

  “So your messengers have told us,” Teamor said, lowering his hand. “How long before your caravan will arrive?”

  “They should be here before the sun sets,” Lupo said.

  “They will be welcome and considered friends, as are you all,” Teamor answered. “In evil times it is good to meet men of honor, like yourselves.”

  “Our honor is in our deeds, in our words, and in our lives,” Lupo said.

  Alex looked at Lupo. His words seemed to be memorized; some code or special ceremony that Alex didn’t know anything about. It was the right thing to say and it rang true, but Alex was slightly concerned. Whalen hadn’t mentioned anything about special words or codes when meeting with soldiers or even armed men. Did Whalen know about this and had simply forgotten to mention it, or was this something Whalen knew nothing about?

  The moment passed, and Alex hoped he would have time to ask Lupo about the words he had said. The soldiers took over the work of digging graves, and Alex and his companions were invited to join the commander for the midday meal.

  Once things were in order and Alex and the others had taken their places, Teamor told them what had happened in the village, or at least what he knew. The villagers kept watch on the harbor, and they had seen the raiding ship long before it came to their small port. This was not the first time that pirates had come looking for supplies and water. Most of the people from the village had gone into the hills to the north, while thirty of the men had remained behind. It was almost a custom here in Welding for the men to bargain with the pirates, trading with them so they could get what they needed without causing any real trouble for the village.

  “Such things have happened so often in the past that the villagers were not troubled or afraid,” Teamor said. “I fear that will change in the future.”

  Things seemed to be going as they should, as they had many times in the past, but then something went wrong. The pirates had suddenly attacked. The people in the hills had seen them when they started killing the men of the village. Fear had filled them, and without waiting to see what the pirates would do, they had fled.

  “They came to Parlasea three nights ago, and if things had been ready as they should have—” Teamor shook his head. “We should have been here sooner, and in future we will be.”

  “This has happened to other villages?” Lupo asked, seeing the look on Teamor’s face.

  “Not to any nearby,” Teamor answered. “But word has come of similar things happening in the far north and the west. We should have expected something to happen close, but it is hard to imagine evils close to home when stories come from far away.”

  “Nobody wants to believe evil stories, but all too often they’re true,” Alex said, more to himself than to anyone else.

  “Yes,” Teamor agreed. “And there are other stories you should hear, stories of dangers on the inland roads. I doubt that a full caravan will find any trouble, but your scouts or anyone wandering too far off might.”

  “What stories?” Lupo asked, concerned.

  “I will speak to your father when he arrives,” Teamor answered. “Bandits have long been a problem in the north, as I’m sure you know. It seems that of late they have moved farther south as well.”

  “I’m sure my father will welcome any information you can share,” Lupo said.

  The caravan appeared well before sunset. Lycan, hearing the news of what had happened in Welding, had hurried them forward. The men of the caravan were well armed and alert when they came rolling into the valley, but there was no need. Lycan was quick to discover all that had happened, and after only a few minutes of putting the caravan in order, he went off with Teamor to talk privately.

  Alex wanted to have a private talk with Whalen, but with all the commotion of the caravan’s arrival and getting set up for the night he wasn’t able to. Finally, after taking care of his assigned duties, Alex walked toward the harbor alone. He wanted to think. He was looking for answers about what had happened here and why. Most of all, he was worried about the future and the adventure that he and Whalen were on. He was sitting at the end of the dock looking out at the darkening sea when Lupo came looking for him.

  “You seem troubled,” Lupo said softly. “I understand that what happened here wasn’t pleasant, but you seem to be taking it harder than you should.”

  “And how hard should I take it?” Alex asked.

  “Well, I—” Lupo started and stopped. “I just mean that, well . . .”

  “What?” Alex asked. “Speak your mind. I won’t be offended.”

  “Today was bad, I know that. Still, it seems to me that you’ve been in a dark mood for many days now, and the further north we’ve traveled, the darker your mood seems to get,” Lupo said. “It’s like you’re waiting for something you hope will not come.”

  “Are my thoughts so open to you?” Alex asked in surprise.

  Alex thought that he had been hiding his feelings. He believed that his concerns about the future, about Whalen, and about his eventual meeting with Jabez were known only to himself.

  “You don’t hide your worries as easily as you think,” Lupo answered. “I don’t know what your troubles are, but I can see them in your face. I can hear the echo of them in the laughter you use to hide them.”

  “Today was bad, but it is not the cause of my troubles. It is the future that worries me, a future that I cannot see or even guess at.”

  “Only an oracle can see the future, and even they cannot see all. Don’t let the unknown drag you down in worry. Look to the future with hope.”

  “I have hope. It’s just—”

  “Just that you’re thinking of adventure. I suspect that since I told
you of my dream to become an adventurer, you’ve had some thoughts about your own future as a merchant.”

  Alex was surprised by Lupo’s guess. It wasn’t what he had expected his friend to say, and it missed the truth completely. Still, he couldn’t tell Lupo what was really bothering him, and the thought of becoming an adventurer was as good a cover story as anything.

  “Being a merchant seems a dull life,” Alex said. “I wish I had some idea of what my future holds.”

  “I thought as much. Perhaps I can help you.”

  “Have you become an oracle, able to predict my fate?” Alex joked.

  “Nothing as grand as that. I do, however, know of something that might help. It is a place we will pass as we travel to the west, a place that many people claim is magical.”

  “What place is that?” Alex asked, interested.

  “A cave. There are some who claim that if you sleep in this magical cave you will have visions of your future.”

  “‘Some who claim,’” Alex repeated. “Do you make this claim? Have you slept in this cave?”

  “I’ve promised not to name those I know who believe. And I know that the cave doesn’t bring visions to everyone.”

  “You’ve tried it yourself, haven’t you?”

  “The last time we passed this way,” Lupo admitted. “I had no visions or dreams. Still, those who claim to have seen their future seem happier for it. Perhaps you will have the dreams and find the answers you seek.”

  “I don’t suppose there is any harm in trying,” Alex said, his mind catching on a new hope. If such a place as this magical cave was along their path, it might be useful for his current quest. He didn’t know if he would find any answers, but there was a chance that he might.

  “It’s at least ten days before we get there. The cave is hard to find, but I’d be willing to guide you, if you want to try it.”

  Alex agreed, even though his reasons why were not what Lupo thought. Lupo seemed happy to have helped his friend, and that helped Alex feel happy as well.